


Oracle

by CaptainGray



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Romance, Scars, Science Bros, Slurs, Swearing, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-04-05 05:38:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14037351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainGray/pseuds/CaptainGray
Summary: *This story may contain graphic depictions of violence, slurs, and swearing. There is also a trigger warning for abuse. Please read the tags before reading. More tags may be added*Blood was everywhere. On the comforter of the small bed, matted in the fur of a teddy bear with a bow tie, and pooling under the knees of the bent figure of a man.“Freeze!” Sergeant Ramirez shouted, pointing his weapon at the hunched figure. His eyes quickly darted around and landed on a lump in the corner that was unmistakenly a dead body of a woman.“Put your hands on your head.” The sergeant growled out. The man raised his hands, revealing blood staining all the way up his forearms. A bloody kitchen knife clutched in his right hand.“Drop the weapon, and put your hands on your head!” he shouted, as the other officers came into the room, their firearms raised as well. The male complied and slowly turned around with his hands on his head. The officers gasped and blanched at what lay on the floor.





	1. Origin Story

The evening summer air was sweet and warm, as Mrs. Lynn sat by her open window breathing it in as she sipped her tea. Being a retired widow left her with a lot of time on her hands lately, not that she was complaining. A slight breeze carried the sounds of crickets to her, and ruffled a few of her loose gray hairs, as the sky turned to beautiful shades of pinks and purples as the sun set on another peaceful summer day. 

With an easy smile, she sat reminiscing about her late husband and the things that they would do during a summer evening just like this one. Fond memories flowed through her as she gazed out at her neighborhood.

Being in, what would be considered a more rural area of Tennessee, the houses were a bit more spaced out from each other. Making it feel like the neighbors were close, but still, have breathing room from each other. Though the houses were not from the same cookie-cutter, all of them had at least two stories and a driveway. Some had lawns like Mrs. Lynn’s, either green or brown. Some had just a walkway up to the front door. A few had bikes or jump rope, or some other random toy that was forgotten to be put away, that let you know which house had children. 

There was one house that had no toys on their dirt lawn, that held a sweet child. Looking at that house little ways down the street made the smile on her face turn into a frown of concern.

This particular house belonged to the Edwick’s. While most people in the area, Mrs. Lynn included, were considered church-going folk, Abigail and Jacob Edwick took it a step farther. Even she (and she hates this term) would consider them “bible freaks”.

Jacob Edwick was a very controlling man. He ruled his household with a firm hand. Some would say too firm. He's the type of person to have memorized every word in the good book just to go around quoting it to people, whether they wanted to hear it or not, and lecture them on how to be a “good Christian!”. Most of the time everyone just took it with a grain of salt.

Abigail Edwick, on the other hand, was very soft spoken (if she spoke at all) and took her husband's words as gospel. With her husband around she could hardly get a word in edgewise. Anyone who would be kind enough to invite her to an outing outside of church functions would be told: “I have to check with my husband first.” This, everyone took to mean no. For Jacob couldn’t control his wife if she wasn’t with him.

The Edwick’s had one more member of their family. Little Evelyn. She was most recognizable by her mop of curly brown hair, that bounced with every skip she took to school. Being only six, she never saw anything wrong with how her parents wouldn’t let her play with the other kids, or how she wasn’t allowed to watch television. To her, it was just how things were.

She was a sweet child, always had a smile for everyone. Though every once in a while she would say something… odd, and it would earn her a rather frightening glare from her father.

For instance, she told her neighbor Mrs. Lisa Boxer, that she “should buy a new dog leash. Maybe a pretty purple one!”. Everyone knew Mrs. Boxer owned two female dogs, from her daily morning walks, so she thought nothing of it. 

However the very next day, on one of those walks her dog leash snapped after one them tugged on it trying to get at a squirrel.

The more she thought about it, the more Mrs. Lynn could recognize that the seemingly innocent and random things Evelyn would tell people, would in some form come true. 

Thinking back to last weeks service, at church, she remembered looking behind her and saw Evelyn crying. Though she tried to keep quiet, her sniffles earned her a few curious and concerned looks from the people sitting around them. Her mother frantically and quietly tried to calm her down, while her husband stayed facing forward with a steady reddening face. Evelyn just buried her face in her mother’s dress and continued to cry.

After the service, Mr. Edwick tried to hurry them out of the church, but as usual, was stopped by those who wanted to chat and gossip and manners dictated he stay and chat. Some asked after Evelyn, asking if she was alright, which he would reply, through tight lips, that she was fine. Evelyn had slipped through her mother’s grip while the grown-ups chatted and rushed to the elderly couple at the front. 

Mr. and Mrs. Riley were well a known and a well-liked couple that was just about to celebrate their 60th anniversary by taking a trip to Florida.

Mrs. Riley was gushing to the pastor about it when Evelyn had run up to her, grabbed her skirts crying and begging her not to go.

“Please, please, please, please don’t go. It’s not safe!”

On and on Evelyn wailed in her little voice for them not to leave. It would have made some sense if the Edwick's were close to the family and the little girl just didn't want them to be gone for so long. That wasn't the case though for though the Riley’s were friendly with everyone, they weren’t particularly close with any one family.

Mr. Edwick left the gossiping couple and stormed over to her, harshly grabbed her arm. Mrs. Riley tried to calm the child down as she was being pulled away. Finally dislodging her from her firm grip on the fabric he then dragged both her and her mother out of the church, his face showing just how furious he was.

Mrs. Lynn had long suspected that there was something more sinister going on at that house than just a controlling man. She has been woken up more than once at night by what she thought was a woman's scream. Though she didn't have definite proof it came from there, but she had her strong gut feeling it came from the Edwick household. Her gut feelings usually turned out to be right.

“Never underestimate a woman’s intuition.” Her late husband Mr. Lynn, would say with a cheeky side grin her way. And she didn’t plan on it anymore. The next suspicious thing coming from that family and she was calling the police. Gossip be damned if she was wrong.

The bizarre and tragic thing was, not two days later the poor Riley’s were found dead at the scene of a car crash just outside the city limits. A sleep-deprived truck driver rammed full speed into their car, killing them instantly, the day they were leaving for their trip.

Their service was held the day before.

The Edwick’s had shown up. Everyone had given them not so subtle glances throughout the eulogy. Poor little Evelyn just cried silently, wiping her tears on her little black dress.

Mrs. Lynn was pulled out of her thoughts, by a distant scream followed by what sounded like furniture crashing. She swung her head back to the very house of her musings and sat up like a meerkat, and waited, her old hearing straining.

Just when she thought that it could be nothing, but maybe someone else having a bit of a scare or accident, she heard it again. This time followed by an indistinct male shouting and more screaming.

Mrs. Lynn wasn’t the only one who heard it either, as others on the block stuck their heads out of windows or even stepped outside their doors.

Mrs. Lynn was already on the sidewalk and shuffling as fast as she could towards the Edwick’s, silently praying all the way.

“Call the police!” she shouted to a woman who stood on her porch looking on with concern. At hearing Mrs. Lynn's barking command, the woman rushed back into the house to her phone. At this point, few more neighbors came out and joined on her march. Another scream was heard, like something out of horror film. Those who were able quickly overtook her shuffle and ran the rest of the way towards the house.

The door was locked, so some attempted to break it open, while others were shouting trying to get anyone in the house to respond. The screams and shouts within continued.

The door was finally breached just as the police showed up. A mix of neighbors and officers poured into the house, while the rest waited on the dirt lawn with baited breath, as the screaming was suddenly cut off.

❧

The police, after urging the civilians back out, began their sweep of the house. One officer searched the upstairs and followed the sound of a man’s low rambling. It led him to a room that clearly belonged to a little girl and came upon a scene right out of a Quentin Tarantino horror movie. Blood was everywhere. On the comforter of the small bed, matted in the fur of a teddy bear with a bow tie, and pooling under the knees of the bent figure of a man.

“Freeze!” Sergeant Ramirez shouted, pointing his weapon at the hunched figure. His eyes quickly darted around and landed on a lump in the corner that was unmistakably a dead body of a woman.

“Put your hands on your head.” The sergeant growled out. The man raised his hands, revealing blood staining all the way up his forearms. A bloody kitchen knife clutched in his right hand.

“Drop the weapon, and put your hands on your head!” he shouted, as the other officers came into the room, their firearms raised as well. The male complied and slowly turned around with his hands on his head. The officers gasped and blanched at what lay on the floor.

The small body was desperately trying to gasp in air as thick red blood leaked from her throat. The man continued to ramble lowly as the other officers approached him to put on the cuffs. Ramirez rushed to the little girl’s side and brushed her bloody wet curls off her forehead as he used the ruined comforter to put pressure on the wounds.

“It will be alright, shhh, don’t worry.” He looked up at his Lieutenant, “Someone called a bus, right?” at the Lieutenant's affirmative nod, Ramirez turned his attention back the little girl.

“My God.” The Lieutenant breathed, as he took in the room. “Check on the other one.” he ordered.

The other officers had finished cuffing the male and started to drag him out of the room. Ramirez caught some of his ramblings as he passed.

“Had to be done. Don’t you see? He was trying to corrupt us through her devilish knowing! It had to be stopped!” he yelled all the out of the house.

“She’s dead sir.” The young officer who went to check on the other female reported, his face ashen. The Lieutenant just gave a grim nod.

❧

Mrs. Lynn would not forget this day, no matter how much she wished to.

The sight of the police dragging a blood-covered Jacob out of the house as he shouted nonsense all the way to the police cruiser, EMTs rushing past, only to come out with a blood-covered little bundle on a stretcher, followed by a coroner and a filled black body bag, would fuel talks in this town for years to come. The people still on the lawn were pushed back behind police tape. Some were crying, others were trying to get any information out of those that were actually in the house. Mothers dragging children who wanted to know what was happening, back in their houses. A young police officer rushed out, only to brace himself on the corner of the house to throw up.

In the end, no one really knew all the details, mostly because the judge, in an effort to protect the Edwick girl, sealed her file. So all anyone had to go on was the recounts from all who had witnessed it firsthand and were exaggerated each time it was told.

Mrs. Lynn would not stoop to answering questions to those who only wanted something ‘juicy’ to gossip about to their bingo clubs and friends at the hair salon or at the grocery store. It didn't stop them, however.

Although the town would eventually move on, Mrs. Lynn would always remember Evelyn Edwick.


	2. I Had A Date

The first thing Steve felt was a general awareness of his body.  Aware that he was laying down, that he was wearing clothes and laying on top of the sheets, indistinct noises in the background and that he was extremely sore. Like he slept in one position all night and didn't move a muscle.  

 

Prying his eyes open was more of a chore than it should have been. The first thing he saw was a white rotating fan hanging from a white ceiling. Turning his head he saw an opened window, sounds of people and cars passing somewhere below, and daylight spilled into the room. For some reason, the sounds coming from outside didn't sound quite right, but he couldn't pinpoint why. And were his eyes still adjusting or are those buildings across the way….fuzzy?

 

He slowly sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.  

 

_ Why am I wearing boots?  Where am I? _ He thought. 

 

Looking up and around, it looked like he was in a hospital room. White walls and ceiling, white metal frame with a chart holder hanging at the foot. White radiator underneath the window, with white fluttering curtains. The only ‘colors’, were the wooden side table and dresser, on which a radio sat playing a narration of a baseball game.  Focusing better, he was able to make out what was being said. 

 

_ “Curve ball, high and outside for ball one. So the Dodgers are tied, 4-4. And the crowd well knows that with one swing of his bat, this fellow's capable of making it a brand-new game again. Just an absolutely gorgeous day here at Ebbets Field. The Phillies have managed to tie up at 4-” _

 

Steve furrowed his brow.  _ Something’s not right...why is the station airing an older game? _

 

_ “But the Dodgers have three men on. Pearson beaned Reiser in Philadelphia last month. Wouldn't the youngster like a hit here to return the favor? Pete leans in. Here's the pitch. Swung on. A line to the right. And it gets past Rizzo. Three runs will score. Reiser heads to third. Durocher's going to wave him in. Here comes the relay, but they won't get him.~” _

 

Steve was distracted from his puzzled suspicions, by the door opening. A pretty red headed woman peeks around the door and walks in when she sees that he is awake. She's wearing the army’s standard white blouse with a beige skirt and, a man’s tie? Also her hair, it wasn’t styled like normal, it was too loose. And with a quick, quick glance also told him that she either wasn’t wearing a bra or it was something. Steve was a man and he has worked with women (ie. Peggy) and, army or no, they certainly were not… shaped, like that.

 

Her red lipstick makes her teeth look whiter, as she gives him a smile that was supposed to put him at ease. 

 

It doesn't.

 

“Good morning,” she says before looking her watch. “Or should I say afternoon?”

 

Something was off with all this.

 

“Where am I?”

  
“You're in a recovery room in New York City."

 

Recovery room? Then, where was all the medical equipment? I know I heal fast but still.  Steve's attention was pulled back to the radio as the announcer yelled.

  
_ “The Dodgers take the lead, 8-4. Oh, Dodgers! Everyone is on their feet. What a game we have here today, folks. What a game indeed.” _   
  


His face hardens, as he turns back to the woman.

 

“Where am I, really?”

 

The woman's smile falters for a split second, but enough for him to notice thanks to his heightened eyesight.

  
“I'm afraid I don't understand.”   
  


Steve barely lets her finish, almost cutting her off.

 

“The game, it's from May, nineteen forty-one. I know, cause I was there.” he gets up from the bed to fully face her.

 

“Now, I'm gonna ask you again. Where am I?” his tone was taut and intimating without even having to be raised above normal speaking level. She no longer can hide her nervousness.   
  


“Captain Rogers…” holding one hand in slightly in front of her in a calm down position while she secretly pushes an alarm behind her back with other.   
  


“Who are you?” he practically yells. 

 

Two soldiers in black uniforms suddenly enter the room. 

 

_ Hydra!  _ Steve thinks as he backs up a step, before crouching into a fighting stance. He ducks under their reach and elbows the back of the head of one, causing him to stumble into his partner. He then chest kicks the one in front so hard it knocks them both through the wall.

 

Quickly following them through the new doorway, Steve looks around and realizes that he's on some kind of set in a larger empty room. The outside of the ‘recovery room’ was just a box and ‘outside’ was a projection on a screen. 

 

_ No wonder it was fuzzy.  _ He thought absently as he runs out of there. Steve could still hear the woman as she called for backup.    
  


“Captain Rogers, wait!” she yells at him in vain. She pulls out her comm, as she steps through the hole, and attempts to help up the moaning agents on the floor.

 

“All agents, code 13! I repeat. All agents, code 13!” 

 

Steve whipped through a set of doors, into a lobby of a building with a wall made of glass. Seeing a sidewalk on the other side, gave him a direction on a way out.

 

Hearing the alarm the agent put out over the loudspeakers, many turned to Steve as he entered, and some were brave enough (or dumb enough) to try and intercept him as he made a break for it. They were knocked down like they were hit by a vending machine with legs. 

 

Once outside, he concentrated on getting as far away as possible on foot. Cutting across the street, he was startled by a car honking. Actually looking around, and taking in his surrounds, Steve realized he was in Times Square, but not as he remembered it. He could only stare in open disbelief as circled trying to take in the impossible sight of brights large screens and billboards, shiny cars and strangely dressed people, who looked at him in mild interested as the continued on (like true New Yorkers). 

 

Suddenly, numerous black SUV's encircled where he stood and started to create a perimeter around him. Agents got out and started herding people back. Another vehicle pulled up behind him. As soon as it stops, Nick Fury steps out.   
  


“At ease, soldier!” he yells, causing Steve to whirl around, only to the strange sight of a man wearing all black with a long leather trench coat and eyepatch. Looking unfazed at this WWII war hero come back to life, as Fury started to approach.

 

“Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but... we thought it best to break it to you slowly." He said almost nonchalantly.

 

“Break what?” his tone biting and defensive. 

 

Fury seemed to consider how to explain before deciding to just come out with it if a bit bluntly.

  
“You've been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years.”

 

Steve blanched and looked around in shock and disbelief.

 

“You gonna be okay?” he asked as Steve turned away, his body seemed to want to curl in on itself.    
  


“Yeah. Yeah. I just...I had a date.” he said in a low sad voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Chapter two alright! My poor poor Steve. Don't worry I won't make you too miserable:) I actually had an idea for the first chapter and had half of it written down before another idea popped into my head. So naturally I scrapped the whole thing and started over.
> 
> Nothing too original, sorry, but it had to be done. 
> 
> Next up I'm thinking Evelyn's POV (see what she is up to) and maybe mix in a bit of Steve's? I'm still working my switching point of views within one chapter thing, but I'll work on it. 
> 
> I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can think of it:)
> 
> P.S. Are my chapters too short? And/or not descriptive enough?


	3. A Glimpse Into The Future

_ Meanwhile, moving 100 feet underground… _

 

Evelyn was roused from her light dosing by a particularly harsh rock of the subway train. Straightening up in her uncomfortable plastic seat, she pushed her glasses back up her nose and blinked her eyes against the sudden flashes of lights that whizzed by the windows. 

 

When she went to grab her phone from her bag, she caught a small boy staring at her. She smiled at him trying to be polite, but he only continued to gape. She uncomfortably readjusted her scarf to cover her scars better. The boy's mother gave him a whispered reproached and turned him away. Luckily it was still April and she could get away with wearing them, but soon she would have to go back to wearing makeup instead.

Sighing, she went back to retrieving her phone and checking the subway app to make sure she didn't miss her stop.

 

Evelyn fricken’ loved this app and Google maps, without them she would probably still be stuck outside JFK airport. She’ll be the first to admit that she doesn’t have the best internal compass, though she’s hoping after roaming a bit she might get a good grasp of where most things are (even if she couldn’t tell you exactly how to get there). This place was a bit of a culture shock when she first got here. The energy of the city was palpable the second she exited the plane. Her cab driver was sweet though, (Dopinder she thinks his name was) after reading her note asking to be taken to a hotel, he drove her to a relatively nice one in Queens, that was decently priced. 

 

The first week was okay, but money was getting tight. She paid upfront for a couple of days at the hotel, using the money she got from selling her car, but knew she couldn't stay there indefinitely. So step one, find a job and work her ass off. Step two, find a super cheap apartment.

 

She didn’t plan on staying here permanently though. She was only in New York till she could find answers to this disturbing vision she’s been having.

 

For as long as Evelyn can remember images would flash through her mind. She didn’t know much about them but what she did know was that they were always silent, always in choppy skipping snippets, never repeated themselves and they always,  _ always _ came true.

 

These visions could be about anything or anyone, there was no discernable pattern she could make out. The only obvious distinction was if it was pertaining to someone else, she would be able to see that person's face. If they were about her, then it was like seeing it through first person’s view. She was never able to see her face, only her hands or feet. 

 

Yet, about a month ago, those guidelines went out the window. This vision was one fluid sequence, it had sound and repeated itself,  _ every day. _

 

~ _ She was running. She could hear her harsh breathing and her feet pounded on the ground. Broken asphalt and debris was scattered everywhere. Screaming people, sirens and explosions could be heard behind her. An unearthly large, loud groan echoed between the destroyed buildings followed by a loud crack of thunder although the sky was clear. She skidded around a corner and caught a glimpse of Stark Tower, smoke coming out of some broken windows on the tall structure. She gasped and skidded to a stop as a bright blue streak shot in front of her and exploded the ground beneath her~ _

 

Every day she saw this. She figured out pretty quickly that it was gonna happen in New York, every news station and talk show had feature something about Stark Tower and/or the man himself, for the weeks. However, it took her way longer to decide what to do with this information. The fact this particular vision broke the rules of the ones from her past, scared her. 

 

What does it mean? Is this event somehow more important? Or did this mean her ability was growing? If that’s the case, what does that mean for her?

 

Then there was the debate on whether she should tell someone about what she saw. 

 

She has kept her ability secret for years, knowing ever since she was little that what she can do was not normal and that the adults would react negatively to this information, she rubbed her neck absently at that thought. As a result, Evelyn grew up to not trust anyone but herself. 

 

But clearly, what she saw was serious. People could get hurt, and if she told someone maybe it could be prevented. Should she even try? Could she even able to stop it from coming true if she did? She has tried to stop a vision from coming true once before and that didn’t go so well. Granted she was only six at the time. 

 

Day after day, week after week she felt she was going crazy debating with herself on what to do. Calling the government? Laughed at or worse, locked up and experimented on. How about doing nothing? It caused her to lose sleep due to guilt on the ‘what ifs’. 

 

If she had the ability to help someone, whether they know it or not, wouldn’t that make her obligated to help them though? She didn’t even have much information to give someone even if she did decide to tell. No time frame either than daytime, or what was even happening. Were we going to be under attack? From who. 

 

Finally, she decided to take some kind of action, because she was getting nowhere arguing with herself, and made the decision to move to New York. Her hope was that her visions might show her something more the closer she got to its source. It was a long shot but she didn’t know what else to do, it wasn’t like there was a book on something like this or someone to teach her how to use her ability. So she packed up, sold her car and bought a ticket on the next flight out. 

 

Now she was currently working on step one, find a job, which was why she was getting off at the next stop. Evelyn tried to flatten out the wrinkled paper her hand that held the address.

_ *flashback* _

 

_ Evelyn went grocery shopping at a corner store the other day, looking for small non-perishables she could stick in her mini-fridge when a bunch of flyers caught her eye on the front window. Most were ads or posters for lost pets, but one of them was actually a help wanted flyer. She wouldn’t have seen it if it wasn’t on such a gross mustard color paper, and was for some reason put up upside down.  _

 

_ It was a bit far from her current location though and thought about dismissing it entirely. Until she got back to her room and a vision hit her, which decided for her.  _

 

~ _ Evelyn’s hand reached out to grab the handle of an office door with a piece of paper taped to the glass with the business's name on it. ~ She saw her shaking hands with two men and being handed a business card both with written words and braille. ~ She was standing in front of a cheap coffee maker stirring something in a mug ~  _

 

_ *end flashback* _

 

“Grand Central Station.” the automated voice droned, followed by the ding sound of the doors opening. 

 

She got up and tried not to fight the flow of people exiting the car. She took a second to take in the train station, gazing up in awe and around like a tourist, before making her way outside. Seeing a bunch of people clustered on the sidewalk trying to hail a cab, she decided to go down a ways to a less congested area to do the same. Again she took the time to look around in wonder (she hasn’t been able to do a lot of sightseeing yet) but stopped short at the sight of Stark Tower. She hadn’t realized how close it was to Grand Central.

 

Evelyn waited with baited breath, hoping a vision would kick in at the sight of the building. When nothing happened and she sighed in disappointment. Her theory was starting to thin. Trying to put it out of her mind, for now, she hailed a cab and showed him the address she wanted to go to. 

 

“Here ya are tutes.” her cab driver said in a thick accent, as he pulled up outside a brick building. She wrinkled her nose a bit at being called that term but handed over the money and got out of the car.

 

“Yous in some kinds of trouble?” he asked, leaning on his arm out the window. She gave a confused look.

 

“Yous axed to be taken to a lawyers office, thought yous might be in some kind of trouble. Old boyfriend won’t leave ya alone huh?” he chuckled as if he said a joke. Not wanting to explain anything to this guy, she just waved her hand in a manner that conveyed that it was nothing. He shrugged before he pulled back onto the street. 

 

Evelyn double checked the flyer to make sure she had the correct address, then looked back up at the building, she saw a plaque next to the door.

 

**NELSON and MURDOCK**

**Attorneys at Law**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might change the way I show you how she is having a vision because it might get confused with a flashback.  
> Hi! Another chapter, yay!  
> Okay so tell the truth was it dumb how I kind of dragged out the reveal of Matt and Foggy's law firm, should I try to stay away from making up too much mystery? Let me know, feedback makes me write better which in turn gets you a more enjoyable story.  
> I wanted to make this longer but decided to split it up. So kind of a short chapter but hopefully that means the next one will be up sooner?


	4. Moving Forward

Evelyn could hear muffled voices as she approached the door she saw in her vision. Her knocking didn’t stop the conversation, as she saw a blurry silhouette through the frosted glass become more defined as whoever came to answer the door, got closer.

 

“I shit you not, it was a toilet seat made out of pennies! And it was stupid expensive.” Foggy Nelson concluded opening the door and smiled at hearing Karen laugh at his story. His smile soon fell when he realized that a really cute girl was standing at the door, giving him an unsure smile.

 

“Hi.” he practically squeaked before he cleared his throat, and tried again with a more ‘professional’ voice.

 

“Welcome to Nelson and Murdock, attorneys at law. We’ll win your case or you banana bunches back guaranteed.” he finished with a winning smile.

 

“No, that is not our slogan!” Matt yelled out from his office, causing Karen to giggle. Foggy, ignoring them, held out his hand.

 

“I’m the Nelson part of Nelson and Murdock. People call me Foggy.”

 

Evelyn couldn’t help but smile at their interaction as she shook his hand. Foggy then stepped aside to let her in and offered her a seat by the door. He grabbed the other chair and turned it to face her.  Evelyn was able to look around the small office as he got situated and saw three side rooms.

 

One room on the right had a long table that was stacked with various papers and files. The door next to it was closed but had a piece of paper taped to the door that said ‘Franklin Nelson’. The door on her left was open but she couldn’t see anything but a corner of a desk. She assumed that was the office of the Murdock part of Nelson and Murdock. Also on the left was a small kitchen alcove that had various pastries and fruit stacked randomly. A good chunk of them were in fact bananas. Finally, she returned the smile from a pretty blonde sitting behind a desk, which she assumed was the front office/reception area.

 

She immediately liked the feeling of this place.

 

She then turned her attention back to Foggy. He was wearing a white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a red tie that has been loosened a bit. His slightly long wavy blonde hair was tucked behind his ears, that combined with his friendly smile reminded Evelyn of a puppy.

 

“So, how can we help you today?” he asked.

 

Evelyn held up a finger in a ‘one moment please’ motion, and reached into her purse to pull out the flyer and a notebook, and began to write. Foggy’s brow crinkled a bit and turned to give a look at Karen over his shoulder. She just shrugged, after all, they get all types coming in here.

 

Once done, she handed the notebook over.

 

_ “Hi. My name is Evelyn Edwick. I saw your flyer and I’m interested in the job. I’ve had experience in clerical work before. Since high school. And what I don’t know, I can pick up quickly.” _

 

“Oh yeah! The flyers. Where did you find this one?” he asked after reading it out loud for Matt’s benefit. Matt came out of his office to lean against the door frame, interested when he didn’t hear a verbal reply but the sound of a pen scratching against paper.

 

_ “I saw it taped upside down at a corner drug store.” _

 

After reading out loud what she wrote, Foggy couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“That must have been one of yours, Matt.” Foggy chuckled, as Matt walked over using his cane.

 

“Well, at least it was facing out the right way,” he mumbled, then held out his hand. “I’m Matthew Murdock.”

 

“Matt also picked out the color.” Karen cheekily supplied to Evelyn.

 

“Alright enough at my expense. Ms. Edwick, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but am I correct in saying you are incapable of speech?” he delicately asked.

 

“She nodded.” Foggy stated. “Which I don’t think should be an issue.”

 

“Neither do I. After all, I only need help with everything else but talking.” Karen said, getting up and slightly hobbling her way to them. Her clunky black ankle boot clashed with her one cute shiny nude pump.

 

“I stupidly twisted my ankle carrying too many files at once up those stairs.” Karen explained to her in an offhand manner.

 

“Twisted? Karen, you have a hairline fracture.” Matt said, his bothered tone suggesting his feelings on how casual she was about fracturing her ankle  _ and  _ getting a small concussion from her fall.

 

“All the more reason I need help around here.” She declared.

 

“She is right Matt. We’ve been so loaded down with cases, even without Karen getting hurt, we could use a set of extra hands. Even if it's just to run errands. Or eating all this fruit.” Foggy chimed in.

 

“Okay, okay.” Matt grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses with a breathy laugh.

 

“You guys have me convinced. Not that I was actually arguing against in first place.” Mumbling the last part, Matt turned back to Evelyn.

 

“Well Ms. Edwick, if we didn’t put you off, we would love to have you on board. The pay won’t be much mind. Our clients pay in other ways than money most of the time. But what we do helps people and lets them know that they don’t have to be rich to get justice.”

 

After hearing the passion and conviction in his voice, Evelyn knew her vision was right that she should work here. If she ended up needing more money, well that’s what second jobs are for. It’s 2012, people hold down two or three jobs all the time. At least here, she could help people when she is not figuring out her bizarre vision.

 

Decision made, she nodded her head and held her hand out for a shake.

 

“Welcome aboard.” He said, after Foggy told him she was holding out her hand and shook it, Foggy followed suit and handed her a business card. Just like in her vision it said Nelson and Murdock in bold dark maroon letters with braille underneath. Karen was the last to welcome her, saying she would give her a tour while Foggy got her paperwork together.

 

“If she offers you coffee, just say no. Trust me.” Foggy stage-whispered, earning him slap on the arm from Karen, as he scurried off back to his office. Matt laughing as he headed back to his office as well.

 

Evelyn chuckled (well more like a broken huff of a laugh) at their friendly ribbing. She had a good feeling that things were looking up.

 

❧

Steve laid on the floor in the bedroom of his new SHIELD appointed apartment. He was staring up at the ceiling, watching as the early morning light slowly filtered in through the window and stretched to the walls. His tired eyes burning slightly from yet another sleepless night. After sitting up, he just sat with his arms over his bent knees, the blanket still covering his legs. Wearily, he finally got up off the floor, picked up the pillow and folded the blanket, putting both on the still neatly made bed.

 

Steve went about his morning routine in the same despondent manner for the last four days. He couldn’t find enjoyment in the little things like the regular hot showers or the fast effortless coffee maker.

 

The morning sun lit up the living room, as he sat on his plain grey couch sipping his black coffee out of a white mug. Looking around he felt that nothing he was seeing was real. But if he closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the city, he could almost pretend the past week hadn’t happened.

 

The illusion never lasts.

 

Steve had been whisked away back to SHIELD, from modern-day Times Square, where he as debriefed on his last memories before the crash and given a more in-depth physical now that he was awake.

 

_ *flashback* _

 

_ “Yeah. Yeah. I just...I had a date.” _

 

_ Fury gave him a moment but knew he had to get him back to HQ and away from the public eye. _

 

_ “We need to get you back, Captain.” for a brief moment Steve thought that this being the future, they had the amazing technology to get him back in time to 1945, but his hope was short lived as his rational mind caught up to his meaning. Steve let these suited people guide him into a large intimidating sleek black vehicle as the black-coated man got in on the other side. No one spoke the whole ride back, the driver and Fury both stared straight ahead, while Steve gazed at the floor of the car in a stupor. He didn’t want to look out the window, not because of motions sickness, but because he didn’t want to see all the differences he knew were there. _

 

_ After arriving at the very building he ‘escaped’ from, he was then brought to what was clearly Fury’s office. A woman in a skin-tight dark blue suit was already waiting for them. _

 

_ “I’ll start by introducing myself. My name is Colonel Nicholas J. Fury and I’m the director of SHIELD.” Fury waved away Steve’s snappy salute, motioned him to sit in one of the chairs across from him, at his desk. _

 

_ “This is Agent Maria Hill.” Fury gestured to the stern looking women, who gave a nod and a short ‘Captain’ as a greeting. _

 

_ “Ma’ame.” Steve acknowledged, then took the seat originally offered. _

 

_ “As I said, we need to debrief you. Make sure SHIELD’s archives are accurate.” _

 

_ “SHIELD, sir?” he inquired. _

 

_ “Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistic Division. After the war, the SSR was disbanded and eventually evolved into what we are now. In short, we protect the world. We are a US based extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency. We are tasked with maintaining and occasionally reinstating, global security.” _

 

_ Steve sat back to take in the fact that there was a single task force to protect the entire world. _

 

_ After having his debriefing, an agent was called in to escort Steve to the medical wing. He walked in a numb haze as he was lead through the high tech building. Everything was shiny and glowing with technology, sharp architecture and contemporary colors and gleaming metal. Not exactly a welcoming feeling.  _

 

_ ‘Then again’ he thought ‘I guess that was the point.’ _

 

 _The physical gave him a sense of deja vu, going back to after the death of Dr_ _._ _Erskine. Vial after vial of blood was drawn; breath, heartbeat, blood pressure, eyesight all checked and cleared. He felt like the poking and prodding of these white coats was never going to end. It would have helped if they hide their excitement about his status as a medical anomaly a bit._

 

_ After the torture, Steve was told that they were going to find him an apartment but that he would have to stay the night at the facility. Steve could have cared less about the apartment after he was also given what few boxes they had in storage, of his stuff and a file box containing the status of his old Howling Commandos and SSR team. Despite his joy of receiving them, he found he couldn’t bring himself to open any of them. _

 

_ Steve didn’t really recall when he fell asleep, but when he woke still wearing the clothes from the day before (not having been bothered to change into the clothes provided), his heart gave a painful squeeze, that this wasn’t some nightmare, but now his reality. _

 

_ *end flashback* _

 

Four days, Steve couldn’t sleep. Four days, couldn’t bring himself to use any of the fancy new machines that littered his apartment. Four days, he stared at the innocent-looking boxes that held what remained of his life and the people in it.

 

Staring forlornly into his now cold coffee, Steve suddenly heard Bucky’s voice.

 

_ “Come on punk. Stop moping around like a sad puppy. You gotta get up when life knocks you down.” _

 

“He’s right.” Steve sighed. ‘I’ll worry about hearing voices later.’ he thought.

 

Suddenly surging with some motivation to move forward, he got up from the couch and grabbed a box before he could change his mind. Setting it on the wooden table by the kitchen, Steve took a deep fortifying breath and took off the lid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, I struggled a bit with this chapter. Hopefully, you can't tell, or if you did you enjoyed it anyway.
> 
> In my head, I have these major plot points and some minor things that were once one-shots that I want to incorporate into this story, but all the stuff in between? That's harder.
> 
> But I am working on it. Let know if it is working!
> 
> P.S. I haven't seen Infinity Wars yet (no spoilers!) but I plan to see it this week. I'm not sure if it will change my story or not. It could make it better (or worse), just depends on how emotionally wrecked I am afterward.
> 
> Tell the next chapter!


	5. Boy Meets Girl

_ ~Ka-Boom! _

 

_ Glass rained down as the buildings shook and hoards of screaming people scrambled to get away from the source of the destruction. _

 

_ Evelyn, on the other hand, was trying in vain to elbow her way through the mass of people going in the opposite direction. Her desperation growing with every shove back. _

 

_ Finally able to break away from the crowd, all she could hear now was her harsh breathing and the pounding of her feet as she ran full pelt down the broken road, dodging scattered debris. _

 

_ ‘Have to make it. I have to make it.’ She thought over and over again. A mantra to help her focus and not freak out like she desperately wanted to. An unearthly large, loud groan echoed between the destroyed buildings followed by a loud crack of thunder, although the sky was clear. _

 

_ Huffing and clutching at a stitch at her side, she skidded around a corner and caught a glimpse of Stark Tower, smoke coming out of some of the broken windows on the tall structure. _

 

_ ‘Almost there.’ She thought with no small amount of relief. _

 

_ About to start running again, she gasped and came to an abrupt stop as a bright blue streak of light shot in front of her and exploded the ground beneath her.~ _

 

Evelyn shot up with a gasp. For an agonizing second, she couldn’t get her breath back. Drenched in a cold sweat, her pj’s sticking uncomfortably to her skin, she put her head between her legs and willed her heart to stop pounding and her lungs to take in air.

 

‘That was too real.’ she thought, the panic slowly subsiding. ‘I could practically feel the people pushing and the heat from that weird light.’

 

Somewhat calm, Evelyn pushed the comforter off and rolled her to feet.

 

‘I need to get a bed frame.’ She absently thought, looking at the sad mattress on the ground.

 

‘What the hell are these visions trying to tell me? That, that can’t be  _ my _ death I saw. Right?’

 

Shaking her head as if to dispel the thought she headed to the shower, peeling the wet pajamas off as she went.

 

Her tiny little apartment was more of a studio. A client of theirs overheard Foggy and her talking (well, Foggy was talking, she was writing) about her trying to find someplace to stay more long-term. We had just helped her win her case against her abusive ex-husband, and she was still so grateful that she told them, “I have a friend that had a space for rent, but he’s not renting to just anybody. Don’t worry though, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

 

One good word later, and Evelyn was now the proud resident of 22 C.

 

Her landlord, Kenneth, was like a big prickly bear. Looked kinda hipster with his tattoos and suspenders, and was really buff for someone in his late sixties. Evelyn could admit that she was both scared and slightly attracted to him. He was like your dad's hot older friend.

 

While he lived in 22 A on the ground floor, Evelyn's direct downstairs neighbor was actually Kenneth's nephew, Riley, who was renting it at half cost, family discount. Sadly, the reason Riley was staying with his uncle was because of his druggie mother, who got evicted from their apartment and was currently doing a stint in jail.

 

Riley was a character though. He was only nineteen, and anyone else in his situation would have gone all broody teenager. But not Riley.

 

The first time she met him was when she was being interviewed by Kenneth (more like given the Spanish Inquisition) to see if  _ she _ was on drugs or mixed up with anything unsavory that would in danger his nephew. Understandably. It was during this “interview” that he stumbled in and made it both more awkward and better.

 

_ *flashback* _

 

_ "So, Evelyn," Kenneth started, laying his large tattooed forearms on the table between them, “Mary said you helped get her lowlife piece a shit husband behind bars." _

 

_ It wasn't a question but Evelyn nodded anyway. When he just continued to stare, she couldn't help but swallow nervously. _

 

_ He then casually looked down at his notepad and asked, "Do you do drugs, Evelyn?" With her scared headshake of 'no' he just grunted 'good'. He eyed her scarf, despite being indoors. _

 

_ “Those are some nasty scars," he commented, and she just readjusted her scarf to better cover them. _

 

_ "You wanna tell me how you came by them?" _

 

_ Evelyn glared at such a personal question and wrote down 'No' rather forcefully on his notepad. _

 

_ "Alright, fair enough. l just don't want any trouble. So if you're in any you best tell me now." _

 

_ He was eyeing her surly but before she could even think of a response, loud and uncoordinated steps could be heard coming down the main stairs. _

 

_ "Hey Uncle Ken, just gonna hang with a few friends - " a lanky teenage boy stopped short at the scene in front of him, his hoodie was open, dangling off of one shoulder, showing his graphic tee of four cute cartoon turtles eating pizza. _

 

_ "Uh. . . hi -lo" a blush formed on his face, but he tried to cover it up, pushing his floppy brown hair out of his face. _

 

_ "Hh, l meant to say hi but hello snuck their way in there. Let me try again, ahem, hi I'm Riley." His handshake a little overzealous but none the less welcoming. Evelyn smiled wrote down her name when he let go. _

 

_ “Nice to meet you E. My uncle giving you the third degree?" ignoring Kenneth's annoyed look, Riley leaned closer and in a not so subtle stage whisper said "Don't let his looks scare you, he's really just an overly roasted marshmallow" _

 

_ At her confused look he explained with no small amount of mischief, "You Know, all gross burnt and crispy on the outside, but warm, soft and gooey on the inside." _

 

_ Evelyn was so surprised by the rather apt analogy, her raspy giggle escaped before she could cover it up. Riley gave a triumphant smile at her and looked at his uncle, who tried to give an offended glare but couldn't hold back a smile himself. _

 

_ "I like her," he stated. "Catch you later E! Bye Uncle, be back later!" and just as quickly as he arrived he was gone. _

 

_ * end flashback * _

 

And apparently, now with two good words, Kenneth caved. He got her a set of keys that same day.

 

Moving in didn't take long, but she was severely lacking on apartment necessities ie. a bed frame, coffee machine, etc.

 

Stepping out of the shower, it's magical ability to make her feel better never fails, and drying off she just happened to look at the clock.

 

' Crap!' she both thought and mouthed, 'I'm late!'

 

Hurriedly throwing her wet curls into a bun, she quickly got dressed. Hopping on one foot to get her shoes on, was made even more difficult due to the pencil skirt.

 

'Stupid sensible work attire.' She grumbled, snagging her coat and scarf as she flew out the door.

 

Glad she choose flats, Evelyn did one of the things she hated most. Running.

 

Dodging people on the crowded sidewalk, she was once again reminded of her dream vision. Stopping at a crosswalk waiting for the light to change, she caught her breath and shook her head.

 

'Stop it brain, bad.' Before she could insult her own thoughts on focusing on that vision, she was hit again with another.  With sound.

 

_ ~ People moved as one big herd on the crosswalk, shuffling along. Looking at there phones, newspapers, or just generally avoiding eye contact with one another by staring at their feet. So no one seemed to notice a little girl in a bright pink coat, double back into the street, crouching down at something on the ground.   _

 

_ Or the impatient driver who was only focused on the change of traffic lights. When he hit the gas hard trying, for some reason, to go before the other drivers he didn't see the little girl over his hood when she stood up until it was too late. _

 

_ The squeal of tires as the driver hit the brakes and spun his wheel, and the sickening crunch of metal hitting and twisting around each other, followed by horrified screams from onlookers echoed loudly. The scared look on that little girl's face chased by the stomach-dropping scream of her mothers as she ran out, knowing it was too late to save her. _

 

_ "Savannah!"~ _

 

Blinking harshly with a small gasp, Evelyn whipped her head around, frantically looking to see if any of her surroundings matched her vision. Double backing to the corner of the street diagonally from hers, Evelyn caught bright pink.

 

She started pushing her way over before her vision’s starting point.

 

‘This one will  _ not _ come to pass.’ she growled in her head.

  
  
  


❧

 

Steve couldn’t help the genuine smile that appeared on his face for the first time since he was unfrozen a week ago.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. had found his old motorcycle from the war in one of the storage facilities. Someone was kind enough to not only get it to him but to also restore it to a practically brand new condition. Now he was racing through the streets of Manhattan after starting at sunrise, feeling authentic joy for what felt like forever.

 

Pulling over when traffic started to pick back up, he decided to grab some coffee and try out the plastic card he was given that apparently held money. Baffled, and promising himself to look up more information on it later, Steve accepted it at face value and was eager to try it out.

 

He had just shut his bike off when his superhuman hearing picked up activity a couple blocks behind him.

 

Many things were enhanced in Steve when he took that serum. Speed, stamina, healing and all his senses, that included his sight.

 

It was a little difficult for him to try and explain it to someone, the easiest way was to just say that he can “see faster”.  What that really meant was, he has this *unique ability to process incoming visual stimuli faster than any other human. Allowing him to pick out information that would be impossible for a regular human to decipher* and quickly make decisions based on that information before another even realized what was happening.

 

With his rather impressive sight and hearing, it allowed him to clearly see the nearly 1,500 feet to where a young woman was pushing her way through a crowd at a crosswalk. The pedestrians complaining at the rough treatment and were ardently ignored.

 

“Excuse you!”

 

“Hey! Watch it!”

 

“What the-!”

 

Looking to where she was heading, Steve was clearly able to see a little girl was in danger of being hit by oncoming cars and no one saw. Except for the woman, who was trying to get to her. Able to determine, that even if the woman was to get to the girl and pull her away, the other cars would just hit them both instead, before they could make it to the sidewalk.

 

Without a second thought, Steve took off. But not before the light changed though. With his jaw set, he pushed faster.

  
  


❧

 

Evelyn realized that it didn’t matter that she tried to get a head start because, by the time she had made to even the curb, the light had already changed. She wasn’t stopping though.

 

She was running so fast that when she reached the little girl, she had to pick her up when she grabbed her. But her momentum was so fast that she lost her footing and they both ended up rolling away. The car that could have been the death of the child, hit the other car just like in her vision. 

 

Exhilaration and relief both flooded her, her vision played out but she was able to change the outcome. She saved the girl.

 

The relieved smile quickly fell when Evelyn realized she forgot about other cars. 

 

A box truck had been following behind too closely to the crashed one, that all the driver could do was hit the brakes and swerve. Right into them. 

 

Not able to get them both to safety this time, Evelyn quickly covers the whimpering girl with her body and braced. 

 

“Savannah!”

 

The impact she felt wasn’t as bad as she was expecting. In fact, it wasn’t even from the direction she was expecting.  

 

❧

 

Steve had been able to reach them just after the first car crashed but saw the still skidding box truck. He saw that the woman had seen it too, and had covered the little girl with her body, ready to take the brunt of the impact. Being as gentle as he could and without breaking stride, Steve made a scooping motion and got his arm under and around both of them. Using his momentum, he wrapped his other arm around them and rolled. His body absorbing the impact of the ground, before he flipped them again so that he was now covering both of them. 

 

The truck drifted right over them, the wind was all that could be felt from it. The sound of tires squealing and the smell of burnt rubber was all that hit them. 

 

In those brief few seconds, after the truck came to a crunching halt, the world was quiet. 

 

One, two breaths and sound quickly rushed back in. People screaming and shouting. Pieces of the cars settling on the asphalt. Other drivers opening their doors to help or gawk. 

 

But all Steve noticed were beautiful big brown eyes staring back up at him in wide shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi *slowly peaks head around corner* I'm sorry this took so long. I got stuck. Not with too little but with too much. I had so many ideas running through my head on how I wanted this to go that I kept changing or rewriting it. BUT I finally kind of agreed with myself, that it won't ever be perfect and that's okay.  
> How is the POV change? I don’t want it to be distracting but I still want you guys to know whose eyes you're looking through.  
> I can't promise when the next chapter will be out but there will be one.  
> I think I will not add time between when Steve was unfrozen to when the Avengers start (which was roughly only two weeks, my poor baby). And I might skip the majority of the movie itself.  
> But then again I might not. :) We will see.  
> Until next time!
> 
> P.S. There is a section bracketed in asterisk (*) I just wanted to let you know that it was taken from an article from Screen Rant's website on Captain America's superpowers. I may use that site again and mark it the same way for that site or any other and let you know.  
> If you want to see that article, PM me and I'll send you the link.
> 
> P.P.S. I also edited a bit of chapter two. Nothing so significant that you need to reread it but I saw something on Tumblr that made me want to add it and give Steve more due credit than just a baseball game tipping him off.


End file.
